


Race X Reader

by TotallyNot



Series: Newsies Oneshots [7]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-08 06:30:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17976236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TotallyNot/pseuds/TotallyNot
Summary: A canon era Race/Female reader for @starrgirl12 on tumblr.My first x reader.~~You became a newsie at the age of 14, and Racetrack has always stood out to you. You never imagined he might like you back.





	Race X Reader

_You became a newsie at the age of fourteen, roughly two years ago, in 1896. When you arrived at the Lodging House, you had been naive. You were just there to escape your father, and you didn’t really have an intent on becoming a part of the newsboys. Oh, how things have changed. You’ve been treated differently than the rest of the newsies, probably because of your gender. But they’re your family. And you’re just as good as the rest of them. You sell as many papers, you have the same attitude, you’re basically one of the boys._

 

_Except you’re not. When you first arrived to the lodging house, you were weak. Bruises lined your arms and stomach, and you were severely underweight. Your hair was messy, and you certainly looked like you had no clue what you were doing. You knocked on the door, three times, and no one answered. You raised your fist to knock again, and the door swung open. A tired boy stood there, bags under his eyes and a newsboy cap backwards on his head, little tufts of red hair poking out from under it. His eyes widened as he scanned you up and down, taking in your scuffed shoes, your torn dress, your shoulder length hair._

 

_“Guys?” he called, turning to the stairs behind him._

 

_“Yeah, Al?” A high voice called out._

 

_“Come here, quick.” The boy, Al? turned back to you. He stood, mouth agape, for a few seconds, before you heard something tapping on the ground. You leaned into the doorway a little, desperately trying to see who was coming. A short boy with a crutch walked up to the first boy, turning to you. He didn’t say anything, because just at that moment, there was a pounding of footsteps; what sounded like twenty boys sprinting down the staircase, crowding around the doorframe, behind the first boy and the boy with the crutch._

  
_“Lemme see! Lemme see!” A boy pushed through the crowd. He looked about your age, tall, with curly blond hair that pushed out from underneath his cap. The crowd of boys fell silent, and the blond boy stared at you, before turning to the boys. “She’s a girl!” he cried, and the crowd burst into chatter._

  
_“Well don’t just stand there,” a boy with a blue shirt said, grabbing your arm, and pulling you into the building, closing the door behind you. “Let her in!” You pulled away from him, pain shooting up your arm from where he had touched your bruise._

 

_“Careful, Jackie,” the boy with the crutch said, staring at your arm. “She’s got bruises.”_

  
_The boy in the blue shirt -Jackie?- looked down at your arm, eyes widening, and then softening. “Sorry,” he said, sheepishly._

 

_“It’s fine,” you murmured, looking down at your feet._

 

_He held out his hand. “I’m Jack. I kinda run things ‘round here.”_

 

_You shook his hand, and told him your name. He smiled, and then turned to the rest of the newsboys. “Alright. You’s all gotta sell tomorrow, so head to bed. All except Racer and Crutch.” The boys all filed out, save for the blonde and the boy with the crutch._

 

_“I’s Crutchie,” the boy with the crutch said, beaming. “And no, my name’s not offensive. I like it.”_

  
_You shook his hand, and then turned to the blond boy, shyly._

 

_“Hi!” he said, grinning and extending his hand. “My name’s Racetrack. But you can call me Racer, Race, Racetrack, or whatever.”_

 

_You nodded, looking down at your feet, and trying to ignore the pain of the bruises. All you wanted to do was sleep._

 

_“You wanna sleep?” The leader, Jack, asked, reading your mind. You nodded, pushing some hair out of your eyes. “You can, in a few minutes. You’s gonna stay here? For a while?”_

 

_You nodded. “I can’t go home,” you sad, tears filling your eyes. You blinked them back._

 

_“It’s okay,” Racetrack said, putting an arm around your shoulders, pulling you a little closer. You relaxed into his warmth. “We’ve been there,” he said, and the three boys led you to an office, where an old man was sitting at his desk, seemingly asleep. Jack rapped on the doorframe three times, and the man jolted awake. He looked at Jack, and yawned._   
  


_“Kelly, what are you up so late for?” he asked, rubbing his eyes with one hand._

 

_“New recruit, Kloppman.” Jack stepped to the side, exposing you to Kloppman. Unlike the newsboys, Kloppman didn’t seem phased that you were female._

 

_“Alright,” he said, and opened a few drawers, pulling out papers. Jack gestured for you to sit,and you did, in the seat right across from Kloppman. “Here you go,” Kloppman said, handing you a stack of papers and a pencil. You filled out your information, fighting to stay awake. Once you were done, you sat in the chair as Kloppman filled you in on the information. You weren’t listening, you fell asleep after a few minutes, and the next thing you knew, it was the morning. You woke up, and a few seconds later, realized where you were._

 

_The room you were in was crowded, there were probably ten bunk beds in total, boys asleep in all of them. A few beds had two boys, and there were two mattresses on the floor, with boys on both of them. You sat up, using your arm to push you up, but immediately regretted it when your arm flared with pain. You were still in your clothes from the previous night, the ripped dress. But your shoes were at the end of the bed. You slipped out of the bunk you had been sleeping on, and walked out of the room. Quietly, you walked around the building, peeking your head into open doorways._

 

_A few rooms down, there was a small room with three bunks, all filled with girls. You smiled. At least there were girls here. You hung in the doorway for a moment, and then you felt someone tap you on the shoulder. You whirled around, scared, not knowing who it was. You saw the boy from the previous night; Race, standing there, a smile on his face, looking far too energetic for so early in the morning._

 

_“Hey!” he said, smiling. “Let’s show you the ropes. We can find ya some clothes.”_

 

_You nodded, overwhelmed, and followed him to a small room filled with boxes. Race walked over to one of the boxes, and pulled out a set of clothes. “You’s small,” he said, handing the clothes to you. “These should fit.” He exited the room, and you closed the door, pulling off your dress, and stepping into the pants, the beaten up shoes, and the striped shirt. They were all a little big, but it was fine. You pulled on the plaid shirt, over the striped one, and then walked out into the hall._

 

_Race smiled as you walked out. “Almost,” he said, grinning._   
  


_“What do you mean?” you asked, nervously._

  
_“Close your eyes,” he said, and you did so, anxious. You felt something on your head, and when you opened your eyes, there was a hat on your head. “There you go,” Race said, beaming. “Perfect.” From that moment on, you spent all the time you could with Race. It took a while to realize, but you had a crush on him. How could anyone not? He made you feel valued, meaningful, important._

_But, after a while, Race started to disappear. He spent all his time in Brooklyn, and whenever Spot Conlon came over to ‘Hattan, Race would drop everything to see Spot. After a while, Race stopped coming back to ‘Hattan. He was there once a week, maybe. And he spent that time with Albert, always. You knew there had to be something going on with Spot and Race. And you knew it was irrational, but you were so jealous._

 

_You knew it was crazy, but without Race’s friendship, you wanted to quit. To stop being a newsie. Maybe even to go back to your father. Just as you were about to make these thoughts a reality, Race came back. He seemed closed off, hurt. Almost a complete contrast to his old self. He didn’t play poker with the rest of the boys, he went to bed early, and, one night, you heard soft sobbing coming from the boy’s room._

 

_A month later, he still wasn’t better. It was Christmas Eve, 1898, and you were sitting downstairs with the boys. There was a mini-Christmas party; Kloppman had bought sandwiches and lemonade, which you had never had before, but was pretty good. They had all been saving up money, and Jack had gone out to buy a small Christmas tree. The little-er newsies had made their own decorations, and Jack and Crutchie had folded bits of newspapers into stars, hanging them all over the tree. Everyone was having a good time, except for Race. Last Christmas, Race had been the life of the party. He had been giving out small gifts to the younger boys, and slipping quarters into people’s pockets when they weren’t looking. But this year, he was sitting in a corner, head resting on one had, a forced smile on his face. You walked over to him, sitting down next to him. “Hey,” you said, lightly touching his arm._

 

_“Hi,” he said, looking at you. “What’s up?”_

 

_“Are you okay?” you asked, knowing the answer._

 

_“Yeah,” he said, forcing a smile. “Fine. Why?”_

 

_“Don’t lie to me, Race,” you said, face hardening. “What happened?”_

 

_“I don’t know what you mean,” Race said, defensively._

  
_“Racetrack, do not lie to me,” you said, angry. “What happened with Spot?”_

 

_“Keep your voice down!” he hissed, shooting you a glare. “It ain’t your business!”_

 

_“Just tell me! Jesus!”_

 

_“Shaddup, what if someone hears ya?”_

 

_“So?” you asked, grinning. “They won’t care. You can’t tell me that there’s nothin’ goin’ on with Al and Elmer. And Jack and Crutchie ain’t seemin’ very innocent either.”_

 

_Race blushed, and then slumped further into his chair. “Spot don’t wanna see me anymore. He told me near Halloween.”_

  
  
_“Ah, shi-shoot, Racer, i’m sorry.” You felt awful for feeling a little relieved that he was now single, but you shrugged off your guilt._

 

_Race shook his head, smiling lightly. “It’s fine. I’ve been mad ‘bout it, but I think i’ve finally moved on.”_

 

_“That’s good,” you said, smiling. “But I don’t believe ya.”_

 

_“Oh yeah? Why not?” he asked, a grin taking over his face._

 

_“Are you kidding me?” you asked, worried. “You’ve been acting weird for a real long time, Race. What’s up?”_

 

_His smile fell a little. “It’s nothin’.”_

_“Don’t pull that shit with me,” you warned, fixing him with your best glare._

  
_“Fine,” he said, giving in, and avoiding eye contact.  “I like someone who don’t like me back.”_

 

_“Who?” you asked, following his gaze to where all the boys were standing. “Albert?”_

 

_“Ew! God no,” Race said, and you felt your face heat up._

  
_Embarrassed, you looked down at your lap. “Who, then?”_

 

_Race was silent, and you looked up at him. Instead of answering, he leaned in. Your mind raced, confused, and then, he pulled you in and kissed you. Your mind was going crazy, and you pulled back. “You,” Race said, and gave you another kiss. There was whooping and catcalls, and you felt your face heat up, but you leaned into the kiss, feeling happier than you had in all 16 year of your life._

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! This was my first X Reader fic, I hope it was okay.


End file.
